


it’s those people problems

by cathedrallinens



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alien Character(s), Aliens, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Kinda?, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathedrallinens/pseuds/cathedrallinens
Summary: “I still don’t see the problem with this being a solo mission,” they continue behind gritted teeth.“Because,” he starts, rubbing at his temples, “you are new to Atlas. Zer0 is busy and I need to see more of how you work before I let you go solo, winging it and all of that.” He flicks the wrist of his hand dismissively, like it isn’t a big deal that he doesn’t seem to trust them. “Think of it like having a handler, or-or a supervisor-““A babysitter.”
Relationships: Timothy Lawrence/Chapter, Timothy Lawrence/OC
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	it’s those people problems

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is a purely self-indulgent piece that I hope you guys will also enjoy. A few notes that I’ll add for context:
> 
> 1\. This is post-BL3, specifically after the whole thing with the casino and Moxxi. It would be around nine months or so after the ordeal.
> 
> 2\. Timothy doesn’t wear the Handsome Jack mask in this universe! He does wear a different mask when he’s on missions, or a bandana and goggles. 
> 
> 3\. Chap7er/Chapter is an alien that’s been planet hopping for the past eight or so years before deciding to settle in with Atlas. They use any pronouns but prefer they/them or other neuter pronouns like xe/xem. I’ll be sticking to they/them for the sake of simplicity.
> 
> 4\. The title is from the song Problems by Mother Mother.

“So why can’t I do this mission solo?”

“Because Chapter, this guy’s pretty bad news,” Rhys huffs, leaning back into the gaudish suede chair he has sitting behind his desk. He flips the screen towards them, words and numbers and whatnot wrapping around a picture of the employee in question. “You know the history with Maliwan. Shit wasn’t just gonna suddenly disappear after Katagawa’s death, as much as I wish it did.”

Chapter rolls their eyes behind their helmet, leaning over to get a better look at the guy. He looked like scum and probably smelled like musk and protein powder. They skim through what’s presented, even though Rhys went over the same information about twice before. A family member of an “ex”-Maliwan employee has been leaking Atlas intel and the anxious CEO wanted him “fired.” Rhys even made sure to add the hand quotes. It’s straight out of the action movies they watched during flights. 

They squint at the screen, trying to burn the image of the guy into their memory. Humans all look the same to them. 

Even after twelve years away from home, they couldn’t differentiate features on humans like they could with their own species. It takes a _while_ for them to remember someone’s face, let alone be able to tell them apart from another person. Forget it if they grew a mustache or got a haircut. 

“I still don’t see the problem with this being a solo mission,” they continue behind gritted teeth.

“ _Because_ ,” he starts, rubbing at his temples, “you are _new_ to Atlas. Zer0 is busy and I need to see more of how you work before I let you go solo, winging it and all of that.” He flicks the wrist of his hand dismissively, like it isn’t a big deal that he doesn’t seem to trust them. “Think of it like having a handler, or-or a supervisor-“

“A babysitter.”

“I didn’t say that! I didn’t… say that.” Chapter watches as he squirms a bit, running his hands through his hair and fixing his skag print tie for what was probably the eighth time in the past thirty minutes. “I just… think you need someone. Just to make sure. Just to be careful, and make sure what needs to get done, gets done.”

Chapter’s visor on their helmet projects a blue sour expression - >:/ They leave it at that though, deciding not to bother him more than they’ve already had. He’s their boss after all; fucking up this early would ruin the paycheck and reputation more than they’d appreciate. 

They run over the mission plan and info they’ve gathered as they walk away from the office, the impossibly tall ceiling height aquariums feeling more pretentious than awe-inspiring the second time around. Fine. They’re getting a babysitting doppelgänger that’s somehow more capable than Chapter at their own job. They clench and unclench their fists, a deep rumble emanating from their chest. 

Whatever. 

————

They drag themself back to Atlas HQ the next morning with their duffel bag of necessities, shouldering it more once they get close to who they assume is Timothy Lawrence.

The man is talking to… someone, maybe running through a supplies list for the caravan they’d be sharing. His hands flap around as he speaks, waving and motioning here and there. Chapter looks him up and down, glad their eyes were hidden behind their helmet. As they near him, and the other person walks away, they see Tim turn and seemingly startle at the sight of them.

When they stop in front of him, they look down. He’s short; at least six inches shorter, and that’s in combat boots that give them two inches more than usual. The difference in height alone makes Timothy sputter out an attempt at a greeting before he finally manages a meek “Hi.”

“Greetings,” Chapter replies bluntly, the dual pitch in their voice becoming more apparent to the human, even behind the robotic filter of their helmet. They watch his Adam’s apple bob when he gulps. “Timothy Lawrence. I think.”

“Yeah, that’s me!” A forced and nervous chuckle leaves 

him, shooting finger guns before almost immediately cringing at the motion. “Sorry, that was…. anyways, how-how are you, big... guy? Chapter is it?”

“Yes, Chapter. Not a guy. And I just wanna get this over with, to be quite honest with you.”

Timothy’s already anxious smile weakens more at their tone, rubbing at his shoulder and avoiding eye contact before he speaks again. 

“Yeah, you and me both, kiddo. Let's just hope that the guy is an absolute fucking idiot who’s as dumb as a bucket of hair,” Timothy says callously, grabbing his own bags and walking towards the ship with Chapter trailing behind. “Then again, he probably isn’t since we’re... trying to find him. In the first place.”

The silence Timothy gets in response seems to disconcert him more than Chapter expected it would. He fiddles with his zipper, avoiding eye contact with any part of them, and it makes Chapter grin. 

Together, they climb into the _very_ Atlas themed ship: red, black, and white walls, black seats, Atlas brand gadgets scattered around the room, even some pretty nice beds and a refrigerator and what not. Chapter watches as Timothy looks around, first setting his bags on the bed, then exploring the space they’d be sharing for the next 18 hours or so. 

They drop their bags somewhere convenient and find a place on the couch, sinking into the bright red and black cushions with a sigh that leaves from deep inside their chest. The gentle humming of the ship fades bit by bit as they slip into the comfort of the seat. 

They might’ve gotten some shut-eye if their babysitter hadn’t been so loud during his little expedition. When their eyes open fully again, they find him sitting in front of a computer nearby and scrolling through some ECHOnet site. Chapter can’t see the screen from where they’re sitting. His eyes drift from the screen towards where Chapter is lounging on the couch, one boot on the cushion. The neat little ECHOeye he has lights up with a faint yellow.

Their visor projects their discontentment - >>:(, startling Timothy into shutting the prosthetic off. Chapter hums, sitting upright to properly look at him. 

“Don’t scan me, babysitter,” they warn him, though their tone is playful. There weren’t enough files on them outside of classified Atlas documents to learn much anyways. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- I was just-“

“Look, Timothy Lawrence. You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. I need this to go smoothly so I can get paid. I heard the company yogurt is pretty good, so I promise, I won’t bite,” they tell him plainly. They punctuate their next word with a dark, rumbling timber, “ _hard._ ”

Timothy’s eyes widen into saucers. It takes everything in Chapter not to laugh at the reaction, a smug quirk of their lips as they relax into the couch. 

They notice that Timothy seems to avoid them for the rest of the flight, at least until they’re both strapped in and landing. The ship lands on the Pandoran soil with a jerk that makes Chapters stomach sink into their hips. Outside the windows, there’s only desert, and desert, a bit of rock, and more _fucking_ desert. They set foot on it only twice before, and every single time was just a shitshow, and that’s just the wildlife and landscape alone. Now, they’re back. It makes the growls already in their chest grow louder, loud enough for them to get a look from Timothy.

“I don’t like it either,” he mumbles, leading them off the ship and into the sunlight. 

Chapter grunts in response, looking around the Atlas base. It’s meek compared to HQ, as subtle as it can be for a company that’s almost as full of itself as Hyperion. Employees are scurrying around and there’s a bunch of jargon being thrown at them as they walk to the caravan, some of which they don’t bother to listen to. Timothy’s still talking to their debriefer when they step into it.

The cool air hits them like a freight train. It’s not that cold, but it’s enough of a difference that it makes them sigh and unwind, just a bit. It pulls them away from the present enough that Timothy walking in startles them more than they’d like to admit. 

“Rhys said we gotta head out if we wanna make it there before nightfall, then he’s gonna check in when we do. So,” he drops his bags on the couch and claps his hands together. “Let’s get that ass moving, cupcake!” He winces, muttering an apology for his tone before turning on his heel and walking towards the driver’s seat. 

That comment alone makes Chapter’s skin crawl. Knowing why he does it—implanted with Handsome Jack DNA or whatever—doesn’t make it any less unappealing. It just adds to the feeling that whatever this is, it won’t be enjoyable. 

————— 

Their babysitter likes the lights dim once night falls apparently. Chapter doesn’t ask why, but being trapped in a flying casino surrounded by neon lights and blinking machines probably has something to do with it. The onslaught of sensory input for so many years definitely wouldn’t do him any good. 

The man looks really, _really_ fucking tired. 

They’re both sitting at opposite ends of the shared table and waiting for Rhys’s transmission: Chapter cleaning and preparing weapons, and Timothy staring at a screen. It’s just translucent enough that they could catch glances as they work. 

Now that he wasn’t forcing himself to act collected and happy to be there, every line and wrinkle he had seemed to deepen. Their hand slows as they take in his features, something they haven’t really done since they first met. 

Even for someone who mixes up faces easily, Chapter knows what Handsome Jack looks like. It’s hard to forget it when it’s plastered everywhere, even years after his death. Unfortunately, Timothy looks a _lot_ like Handsome Jack. They have the same face, same eyes, same voice. More than a decade of running around and trying to survive definitely changes someone though. 

Unlike Handsome Jack, he didn’t wear his mask. Enough time in the sun has evened out his skin tone to a decent tan, and the brand on his face was on full display. Their eyes followed along it, looking at the freckles splattered under his cheeks and against his forehead. Are they staring?

Their gaze follows along the gray streak in the middle of all the dark brown hair, grown into an almost shag cut with the way the bangs are. It falls nicely on his shoulders, draping forward as he rests his head on his right hand. 

Timothy leans over to peek behind the screen and at Chapter. “You, uh… done with all of that? Not to rush you or anything, take your time but I was just wondering-“

“One more thing. Just thinking about something,” they respond calmly. They shrug, displaying a dim blue - :/ with their visor. “It’s nothing.”

Timothy opens his mouth to reply, but the transmission from Rhys comes in and Chapter couldn’t be more thankful. Their side of the screen appears, revealing the mustachioed CEO in his office. Timothy waves, though his smile isn’t as strong as it had been previously. 

“Hey guys, how was your flight?” he asks amiably, like a dad calling his kids now that they’ve left home. 

“Rough. I don’t really miss Pandora, Rhys, shit’s a hellhole,” Timothy replies, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. “You sure we got enough supplies for this run?”

“Yeah, I’m not, like, an idiot. I can do math. Food, water, ammo, money. Iron supplements for Chapter, of course-“

Chapter interrupts the sentence with a SHHH! projected from their visor, which makes Rhys roll his eyes and continue anyways. 

“-which should curb any hunger you have, at least until you get back.”

“Hunger?” Timothy questions, looking over at Chapter again. 

“Yes, hunger. But don’t worry, as long as I’m not starving, you don’t need to be afraid of me biting a chunk out of you.” 

Timothy’s lips and eyebrows twist in a way that gives off the impression that their words don’t settle his worries. Rhys chuckles, even when Timothy’s concerned look grows. 

“You guys will be fine! Your reputations are enough to have me at least a little at ease with this mission. Everything will be… fine. Just fine. Phone the base if you need more supplies. Rhys out!”

The screen returns to a light blue, silence in the caravan settling in once again. Chapter doesn’t bother with the last of the supplies, standing up from their seat. They almost say goodnight to Timothy, but they get enough of an avoidant look when they face him that they don’t push it. Instead, they head back to their bed, taking off their helmet, and pulling the curtains closed. 

**Author's Note:**

> The art for one of the scenes is @cathedrallinens on instagram :o)!


End file.
